The Secrets of the Glen (Scottish Highlands #2)

Chapter 17

Robyn sat down at the kitchen table. It was Saturday, the morning after the funeral. She should have been looking forward to the weekend – David was going to be discharged from hospital at some point – but she’d had a restless night over her plan for David not to go home but to go to Lark Lodge instead to recuperate. She hadn’t run it past Gayle. She had been planning to do so at some point after the funeral, but then she’d talked to Mr Gillespie at his store on Thursday. Now she thought the best thing for David was to go home to his father, and hopefully over time they could repair their relationship.

Gayle walked into the kitchen, still in her nightgown.

‘Morning, Gayle.’ Robyn wondered how she was feeling after the funeral. Robyn hadn’t had a chance to really talk to Gayle the previous day. The wake had gone on long into the evening, which wasn’t surprising, considering the number of people who’d turned up from the local community to pay their respects. For some families, Dr Belafonte had been their GP for three generations.

By the time everyone had left, and they’d cleared away the food and washed up all the dishes, they’d both been way too tired to talk – especially Gayle. All she’d said was that she was glad the day was over. Her three siblings hadn’t planned to stay the night at the house – they’d booked into a fancy hotel in Aviemore. After the reading of the will, she doubted they’d be back to see Gayle before they left. Perhaps she wasn’t surprised, after the revelation that their father had left the whole house, and some savings, to Gayle.

‘Morning.’ Gayle stifled a yawn.

Robyn noticed she had a pile of letters in her hand. Robyn had thought she’d heard the postman. She watched Gayle sifting through them, turning one over, studying it for a moment, sighing and tucking it back like a pack of cards.

Robyn rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ She looked at the mug on the table in front of her. ‘I’ve just made myself one.’

‘Huh?’ Gayle looked up from her letters. ‘Oh, um … yes please.’ She seemed preoccupied as she sat at the table with the letters. She was still looking through the pile. So far she hadn’t opened any. Robyn put a mug of tea on the table in front of her.

Gayle absently picked up the cup and took a sip while discarding another letter on the ever-growing pile. ‘Well, that’s the last of those.’

Robyn sat down opposite her.

‘That pile are all bills,’ Gayle said, eyeing the offending stack of letters. ‘I don’t think mother and father were keeping on top of things.’

‘They all look like reminders.’ Robyn hoped Gayle didn’t mind her making that observation.

‘That’s because they are.’ She sorted through some other letters. Robyn expected they were cards of condolence from people who had been unable to come to the funeral. There were lots of sympathy cards on the mantelpiece in the lounge already.

Robyn put her teacup down and folded her arms on the table in front of her. She looked at Gayle. ‘Let me pay some rent.’ She paused. ‘It would help with ...’ Robyn trailed off, glancing at the bills.

‘That’s not your problem.’ Gayle stretched, letting out another yawn.

‘I know that,’ Robyn said quickly, not wanting to interfere. ‘But I live here, and I would like to pay my way.’ She sighed. How many times have we had this conversation? she wondered. ‘I’ve got a job now.’

‘Yes, and you’ve also got the expense of running a shop – remember.’

‘I’m not running a shop. I told you. I’m renting a bit of shop space.’

‘Yeah, and I bet Mr Gillespie is charging you an arm and a leg for the privilege of a tiny space in his store.’

Robyn bit her lip. That wasn’t far off the truth, even though she was the one who’d suggested meeting him halfway with the running costs of the entire shop, and paying for his shop assistant, Alec.

‘I do get a window display.’

‘Pah!’ Gayle dismissed that comment with a flick of the hand. ‘I don’t care if you’ve got a window display in Harrods. Robyn, you’re my friend, and besides, this is not a guesthouse.’

‘It could be.’ Robyn had intended to broach the idea with Gayle after the funeral. Now here was her chance.

Gayle let out a heavy sigh. ‘Have you seen the state of the place? Of course you have – you live here!’

Robyn grinned at Gayle’s sarcasm.

Gayle continued, ‘The wallpaper is peeling.’

‘Yep.’

‘The carpets are threadbare.’

Robyn nodded, still smiling. ‘Uh-huh.’

‘The furniture’s old.’

But nice , Robyn thought.

‘The plumbing is a nightmare.’

Robyn nodded again.

‘Tell me the last time you had a hot bath.’ Gayle held up her hand. ‘No, not a luke-warm bath – a really hot bath. The sort that wrinkles up your skin and makes it all red and blotchy.’ She glared at Robyn. ‘Shall I go on?’

Robyn nodded in good spirits. ‘Yes please.’

Gayle put the letters down and threw her a look as she lifted her hands in despair. ‘I can’t see what there is to smile about. I find it all rather depressing.’

Gayle’s gaze fell on the pile of bills. ‘I really wish you wouldn’t waste your time with unrealistic ideas that are going to come to nothing.’

‘What if ...’ Robyn chose her words carefully, ‘the house could be restored to its former glory?’

‘And how do you propose to do that?’ Gayle said stiffly. But Robyn noticed her demeanour had subtly changed and her eyes had brightened. ‘You know how I love interior design. I could redecorate …’

‘You’ve already got a job, and besides, I couldn’t pay you.’

‘I wouldn’t want you to. I could do up the rooms and then photograph them to add them to my portfolio of work, along with Rose and George’s house, to show to potential clients, and display photos in my shop. You’d be doing me a favour.’ Robyn eyed Gayle. She could tell she was considering it.

‘Let me think on it.’

Robyn smiled to herself. She had an idea of how she’d convince Gayle to let her go ahead with the plan.

‘Anyway, when it comes to turning this place into a guesthouse, you’ve forgotten one little factor in the equation.’

‘What’s that?’

‘My mother.’

‘What about her?’

‘Even if by some miracle this place was done up to an acceptable standard to run as a guesthouse – and believe me, I don’t know how we’d pull it off, but let’s just daydream a minute …’ She paused. ‘My mother wouldn’t want strangers staying here.’

Robyn thought of Nick. He had been a stranger – in the beginning. She hadn’t minded him staying.

Gayle shook her head. ‘And she’s confused enough as it is. She needs some peace and quiet in her own home.’

‘What I see,’ Robyn started throwing diplomacy to the wind, ‘is that she might end up spending her final years in the company of strangers, but at least here she will be in her own home.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What do you think will happen if you lose this house?’ Robyn said, aware that Gayle just wasn’t facing facts. ‘The house your father left you is gorgeous, but it’s a money pit. The bills are piling up …’

Gayle looked at the bills on the table and said miserably, ‘Tell me something I don’t know.’

Robyn had assumed that Gayle being left the house would be a cause for celebration. Of course it was, but a big reality check had almost immediately set in with the arrival of the post.

‘I never want to see her in a care home, if I can help it!’ Gayle stood up abruptly.

‘I know. That’s why we’re going to sort this.’ Robyn gestured at the bills on the table. She thought of the cash in her rucksack and the money in her savings account. All those bills would go away in an instant if Gayle would just accept some financial help. But she still wouldn’t hear of it. The next best thing was to turn the house around and set it up as a business, earning Gayle money. Robyn realised that it was the best plan. And as much as she wanted to give Gayle some money, she realised that even her savings account wasn’t a bottomless pit. At some point, Gayle couldn’t rely on her to keep bailing her out with the bills – Robyn realised that Gayle already had the foresight to see that.

‘I want your mother to stay here too.’ Robyn frowned when she remembered what she’d overheard the previous day at the wake, something she hadn’t shared with Gayle; it had turned out that her brothers and sister had been more than happy to send their mother packing – sooner rather than later. They were talking about putting their mum in a home, reasoning that it was the best place for her.

Of course, in a lot of instances it was definitely the right decision for families to make on their loved one’s behalf. But what rankled with Robyn was that it appeared Gayle had not been included in conversations surrounding this. Furthermore, it didn’t appear to be about a concern for Doris’s welfare, and what would be best for her, but rather just getting one problem sorted, and out of the way, leaving them free to get their hands on their inheritance. It turned out that they’d already looked into care homes. They’d even had one lined up for her, the plan being that once the funeral was behind them, they’d book their mother in and then sell the house, setting some money aside for her care home fees. The rest of the proceeds would be divided between the four of them.

Robyn only knew this because she’d heard the three of them discussing the plan after the funeral. Robyn had gone to the kitchen for a glass of water during the wake and had passed by their father’s study. She’d heard voices and had realised that it was where the three of them had disappeared to. Of course, they hadn’t included Gayle in the conversation. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but had found that she couldn’t help herself. They had been nice enough to her face, although she had overheard Gayle’s sister, Dinah, make some comment about Gayle inviting people to stay in their house.

She could tell what they were planning; ensuring Gayle did not stay on at the house. They’d assumed that they would all inherit a share, and that they’d be able to pressure Gayle into agreeing for it to be sold. The last thing they’d expected was that he’d changed his will.

Robyn would have loved to have been a fly on the wall during the reading of the will in their father’s study shortly afterwards.

She imagined it was going to take some time for it to sink in for Gayle that her father had left her the house, with the caveat that her mum would live there as long as was medically possible; a condition he’d known his youngest daughter would respect. Gayle also now had sole power of attorney over Doris’s affairs, which she’d previously shared with her father.

Gayle could not afford to lose the house because of some unpaid bills. She still needed an income to support it and ensure her father’s wishes were fulfilled. And Robyn had every intention of helping her achieve that. Now that she owned the house outright, there would nothing, and nobody to stand in their way.

‘I need to go into Aviemore to do some shopping,’ said Gayle. ‘So, what are your plans today?’

‘Ah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I need a lift into town.’